The last few months I have been heavily depressed. My manic episode started receding around late summer last year and by November, straight after Ken’s funeral, I had been admitted as inpatient once more, but this time not for psychosis and agitation but for depression. I dont even remember anything from my first few days there, time and space and reality seemed to consist only of some sticky goo I couldn’t see through let alone have the strength to wade through. I was told afterwards I had tried to escape the hospital a couple of times. Beats me how I managed to muster the energy and it doesn’t surprise me I didn’t succeed.
Fast forward a few months and I have a new boyfriend and two homes and my friends are still all around me and my parents. But Im still not happy. I went to a music festival two weeks ago and ended up hiding under a table at the venue, literally paralyzed with despondency and overwhelmed. Luckily one of my good friends found me and took me back to the hotel, and I am eternally grateful. The next day wasn’t much better, and I ended up not being able to leave the hotel, missing all my favourite bands I specifically paid to see, and repeating out loud to infinity in a monotone drawl the words ‘death is the only option’ and ‘I can’t take this’. This went on for about three hours at a regular pace, and I was spared from taking the surely lethal overdose I was planning (I always carry quite the cocktail of meds with me) by passing out from sheer depressed exhaustion.
On the bright side I did very much enjoy the first day I spent at the festival. I was hypomanic for most of it, thanks no doubt to the humble supply of ketamine I had the foresight to take with me. Towards the end of the night my state escalated to actual mania and my OCD flared up to the point that I alarmed and scared a few people who didn’t know me too well. Still, I managed to calm down relatively well and caught a couple of hours of sleep, which, even though I hate it, is sometimes the only solution.
“What is sleep but little slices of death.”
“Sleep is like death but without the commitment” XD
Currently I am back in London and two days ago I did a risky and expensive thing and ordered some meds online. I have read a lot about bupropion (Wellbutrin) and am hoping it will help me with my disabling depression. I have cut all ties with my pdoc, I have dubbed him the Maggot King and will have nothing more to do with him if I can help it. Which I can. Therefore I must manage on my own. Besides, bupropion is only prescribed as an antidepressant in America. Here in the UK it is a short term smoking cessation aid. I hope it works for me. I hope it gets to me in the first place and I haven’t been conned by some dodgy scam of an online pharmacy specializing in erectile disfunction, which curiously a lot of them seem to do…
Feeling promisingly euthymic this morning and hoping it will only increase in the next few weeks and months. I have a suspicion that my cycles might be tied to the seasons of the year.
Over and out.